Child of the Silent Arts
by Anonymous Homosapien
Summary: Sometimes, he would look up at the sky and wonder when everything went wrong. Was it when his father married and abandoned his wife? Was it when his mother endured so much sorrow for so many years and finally snapped? Was it when his brother couldn't stand being second best anymore and resorted to violence? He didn't know, but somewhere along the way, he went wrong. Assassin Tsuna
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own KHR**

* * *

"Nana, is something wrong?"

Were the first words that Iemitsu blurted out as he darted through the dingy back alleys of Italy with a speed belying a prodigious bulk of solid muscle. On the other end of the connection, his Japanese wife, whom he had married not even a year ago, exclaimed in a sing-song voice, "_Absolutely nothing's wrong! Everything is fine! More than fine!" _

Iemitsu fought to keep his breaths coming out evenly, not in harsh pants to gulp down more oxygen into his lungs and make his fatigued legs go faster. He was fit, at the prime of his age, but running two kilometres at a dead sprint was enough to make even him feel the toll. His strides hadn't shortened, but there was a marginal difference in speed already, and his muscles were screaming in protest, sore and aching.

"More than fine?" He questioned absentmindedly while attempting to make out the indistinct shapes of various obstacles through the Stygian gloom.

"_I just gave birth, Iemitsu! To a pair of twins!" _His wife's sweet voice exclaimed delightedly. There was a loud clang as his foot accidentally sent a can flying, the metallic sound as it ricocheted clearly audible in the almost dead silence of the alley. "That's great, Nana!" He hurriedly answered, glancing behind him to check if his team was still following him. They were, dogging on his heels and clearly exhausted from the gruelling pace.

Two of them had been killed off in the first shower of bullets. He really couldn't afford to be distracted, not even by the news of his children born back in Japan. "_Would you like to come and see your sons?" _There was a cheerful lilt to the words, and he could hear her cooing at her newborn sons. No, their newborn sons.

"Sorry, Nana. My work is really demanding right now, but I'll try to make time to come home soon." There was a soft sigh, leaden with disappointment.

"_Could you… name them?" _Iemitsu grimaced. How was he supposed to come up with names while involved in a mad chase through the streets? Bullets pelted ruthlessly into the ground, trying to catch them unawares, and he conjured a wave of Sky flames to counter the deadly projectiles. "Nana, I'm sorry but-" His phone was dropped unceremoniously as he defended his team vehemently, not even noticing when the thick sole of his shoes crushed the fragile piece of plastic underfoot.

* * *

Approximately 6,000 miles away, a nurse entered a sterile white room, "Mrs. Sawada, what would you like your children to be registered as?"

"The oldest will be Ietsugu, the younger, Tsunayoshi." Dark circles traced the bottom of Nana's bloodshot eyes, her lower body lying motionless and uncooperative after the excruciating labor that had torn through it. But she still mustered a sweet smile towards the nurse, who nodded and penned down the names. "Please rest, Mrs. Sawada. The gynaecologist will be here to check on you soon."

As the nurse walked out, heels clicking smartly against the linoleum floor, she stared at the filled "spouse" section on the form. Spouse: Sawada Iemitsu. She had been working in the hospital for many years, but not once had she seen a husband that neglected to turn up when their wife was going through labor. The only exceptions were single mothers.

Then, the aged nurse thought of the unreserved smile that had been offered to her and the two innocent children in those frail arms, and murmured, "That poor, poor child."

Because in her mind, Sawada Nana was as good as a single mother.

* * *

**~One Year Old~**

Yuri Chiyo looked dubiously at the youngest child of the Sawada household. _There's something wrong about this kid… I just can't place my finger on what it is. _

She had walked up to the house at nine in the morning, dressed in her usual smart attire, immaculate and pressed neatly. She had expected to see two drooling, wailing, fussy babies sitting dumbly in their cots even when they lost control of their bowels. She had expected to have to force a smile that would probably have turned out as more of a grimace as she congratulated Nana for giving birth to a pair of twins that would grow up without their father.

She had expected to see two _normal_ children.

Now, staring at the youngest child of the Sawada household, she knew beyond any doubts that Sawada Tsunayoshi was _not _normal in any way.

"This is Ie-kun! The oldest!" Nana picked up the other child, cradling him to her bosom tenderly. Transferring her gaze to the boy held by Nana, Yuri instantly noted that the disparity between the two twins was so marked that it seemed almost unnatural. Even if they were fraternal twins, they shouldn't look so different.

She barely spared a glance towards the perfectly mundane baby christened Ie-kun. He squirmed in his mother's arms, yellow-green viscous liquid trickling out of one tiny nostril as he waves chubby hands around stupidly. He was the quintessential epitome of an idiotic baby.

No, it was the brother she was worried about.

"And this is the younger one, Tsu-kun!" Nana announced in that ever cheerful manner. "Why don't you pick him up? I'm sure he would like to be carried!" "..." Yuri stared at her dumbly for a second, her brain not quite catching up with what was being said. "Yuri-chan, it's not too hard…"

She let out sigh of defeat, caving in when Nana gave her that hopeful, too hopeful smile that never failed to make her feel terrible when she didn't comply with Nana's wishes. A smile that never failed to draw people towards her.

Yuri approached the child warily, and when the silent baby in the cradle turned his head towards her, a shiver inadvertently ran down her spine. Hesitantly, she reached under his arms and lifted him into her embrace.

Shifting his warm weight to a more comfortable position, she looked down and instantly regretted it. Unfathomable sepia eyes pierced through her as if seeing straight into her soul. Repressing an undignified shudder, Yuri tried to ignore the baby that lay in her arms.

It was not his looks that caused her to feel an alien aversion towards a child that should, by all rights, be innocent and pure due to little exposure to the outside world. He was actually a beautiful baby, with the biggest, most luminous brown eyes she had ever seen set in an uncommonly adorable face. There was little doubt that he would one day grow up to be a heartbreaker.

Half-heartedly listening to Nana's excited chatter about her twins, she finally realized what was so wrong with the tiny, insignificant child called Sawada Tsunayoshi.

His limpid caramel eyes were too adult, too aware, too intelligent.

And they were watching her. Always watching.

When Yuri Chiyo left, dressed in her usual smart attire, immaculate and pressed neatly, she never realized she had forgotten to congratulate Nana.

* * *

**~Three Years Old~**

Flurries of pure white powder swirled through the air dizzyingly, the skies sprinkling the first layer of frost across the ground. The tiny flakes land on the ground, intricate patterns melding over each other into an unblemished blanket that crunched under heavy winter boots. '

Despite the chill that whistled through the streets, throngs of people dressed in thick parkas and coats patronized the shops that were lined along the road, an entire crowd moving sluggishly with eager children occasionally darting through.

Christmas Eve.

A time of presents, carolling, garlands, mistletoe and the like.

Lights were strung across the street, winding around trees and buildings to give off a beautiful array of color in the midst of the falling snow. A huge Christmas tree sat square in the center of street, baubles dangling off the verdant green branches and a incandescent star glowing brightly at its perch on the very top of the towering tree. Arrayed at the bottom of the tree were ginormous boxes wrapped up attractively in shiny wrappers that glinted under the twinkling illumination, though they were most likely empty.

Nana held onto her sons' hands firmly to restrain them from getting swept away by the crowd, smiling fondly as Ietsugu eagerly tugged on her hand, towing them towards yet another store-the sixth one-while chattering exuberantly. Her other son followed obediently, cherubic face bearing the budding signs of impatience.

She released an almost inaudible sigh, her warm breath slipping out of her lips as a misty puff amidst the frigid air.

Nana was worried for Tsuna. Ietsugu moulded into the norm naturally, he laughed and smiled and threw tantrums and screamed like any other child, progressing at the conventional pace set for children's intellectual capabilities or perhaps a little faster-not quite a genius, but certainly smart. He was ebullient and talkative, slightly pampered but overall a good natured child.

But Tsuna… while he laughed, those moments were few and far between, and while he smiled, that short instance would only be captured and directed to a few select individuals. He didn't throw tantrums, for which the neighbours constantly praised her for raising such a well mannered and deferential child, but what the neighbours did not know was that when someone actually managed to burn off Tsuna's rather long fuse, his anger was not explosive and impassioned, but rather as glacial as the raw arctic wind. And it was far, far more formidable than any fiery outburst that his brother constantly made. Because of the very fact that Ietsugu's hissy fits would flicker out as fast as it came like a fire that ran out of fuel while Tsuna's could last for days, or even weeks.

Between the two twins, Tsuna definitely held a grudge far longer.

And don't even get her started on his intellect. Tsuna was exceptional, able to assimilate information that was well advanced for his age effortlessly. But geniuses didn't always fit in with others. Child prodigies were predominantly regarded with a mix of veneration, acrimony or even apprehension.

Basically, her worries stemmed from Tsuna's idiosyncrasy.

A good thirty minutes later, the trio exited the mellow store, the air that had been redolent of the saccharine candies and chocolates that had caused the store to gain repute reverting to pinches of cold that redden the exposed skin of their faces. Ietsugu cradled a box filled with a motley collection of tooth-decaying sweets, a happy beam on his face.

"Kaa-san, I wanna go home!" He whined pleadingly after another twenty minutes of wandering through the streets, "It's getting so cold…"

Nana petted him comfortingly on the head, but a distinct note of anxiousness over her eldest child could be seen in her eyes. Children did have terribly vulnerable immune systems after all. "Tsu-kun, have you decided on what you want to have for Christmas?"

"It's fine. Nothing has caught my interest so far."

While Nana felt a twinge of guilt for not purchasing a present for Tsuna, she comforted herself with the thought that Iemitsu would definitely send one in her stead just like he had for the past three years. So, fretting worriedly over her children, she led the way home hurriedly, ploughing through the rapidly accumulating snow.

But she didn't miss the small hitch in the steps of her youngest child, the slight reluctance that dragged his heels down for a short moment or two. Glancing down, Nana just caught the look of covetousness that was directed at an antique store sitting right at the corner of the street, largely given a wide berth by the crowd. Of course, Tsuna had already glanced away from the half-hidden store, most likely unwilling to trouble her.

"Tsu-kun, do you want to go to that store?" Nana halted, ignoring Ietsugu's loud protests. It was Christmas, and Tsuna deserved a special present of his own, no matter what Ietsugu insisted. "It won't be too much trouble to just pop in and buy something." She coaxed. Tsuna studied her expression for a moment before nodding agreeably, a rare spark of animation and eagerness lighting up his honey eyes.

"Irashaimase!" The matronly woman behind the counter greeted politely.

Tsuna just made a beeline towards the corner of the shop where a subdued, small glass case sat, the original sheen of the glass long since encrusted by dust motes. Blowing off the grey wisps softly, he eyed the necklace nestled on the intricately embroidered pillow, its silver links neatly laid out around it.

At first glance it appeared to be nothing special, just a simple miniature hourglass charm. But inside, small, exquisite snowflakes exquisitely carved to the finest detail glittered as they drifted idly about, intriguing the eye.

The shopkeeper walked up behind him, gently asking, "Do you wish to purchase that necklace?"

Tsuna gave a questioning look to Nana, who nodded in assent, "Yes please. How much does it cost?" The shopkeeper opened the glass case delicately, hooking her fingers into the gleaming chain and bringing it back to the counter. "This will be 3000 Yen." Nana handed over a wad of notes, and she counted the thin sheets of paper carefully with practiced ease. "This is for your child?" The shopkeeper asked Nana cordially, a warm hearted expression on her face as she looked at Tsuna.

"Yes, my youngest." Nana answered, her voice sweet and polite, "A Christmas present."

"I see… It's truly rare for me to see children in my shop nowadays." The shopkeeper said, placing the necklace into a small black box and wrapping it up deftly with a shimmery gift wrap decorated with little sleds pulled by flying reindeers. "Kids these days just don't appreciate antiques?" Nana asked. The other woman nodded melancholically. "This was a very valued piece of jewellery when it was crafted, a masterpiece even. Do treat it carefully." She added a tasteful gold-colored bow to the top of the box and handed it to Tsuna.

"Thank you." Tsuna mumbled softly in reply.

As the door swung shut with a curt bang, cutting off the continual stream of wintry air, the aged shopkeeper shuffled back to the adjoining room, mumbling, "I wonder if I should have told them that the necklace was forged for a dead person."

* * *

Verdant garlands with artificial red berries and gaudy bows were hung about the house, a miniature Christmas tree was set in the middle of the living room, a pile pretty little presents placed carefully beneath it, amongst which a gift wrap covered with flying reindeers pulling sleds nestled awkwardly.

Three people sat on the various chairs littered around the living room, Nana settled in an uncomfortable straight-backed wooden chair, Ietsugu nearly drowning in the enveloping softness of the biggest armchair in the house, Tsuna lounging on the cushy couch.

All three were staring at the television, on which a Christmas Special was playing, reindeers and Santa Claus and elves and whatnot gamboling about comedically. Only two, however, were paying rapt attention to the screen, the last simply affixing her eyes onto it in a semblance of a interest.

The phone rang, the shrill sound easily heard over the volume coming from the television. Nana, having seated herself near the phone, instantly snatched up the thing from its cradle, a shining hope that none of her children understood written all over her expressive face. A hope that was brutally snuffed out the second she heard the voice speaking over the phone. Again, neither twin could comprehend the crushing disappointment that replaced hope.

"Who was it?" Ietsugu asked curiously, still struggling to free himself from the suffocating embrace of the armchair while attempting not to let his family notice his predicament. A futile attempt though.

Nana slid a smile back onto her face with practiced ease, smiling so hard that she could barely see out of the tiny slits her eyes had become. "Just a friend wishing us a merry Christmas."

"Will Otou-san be coming?" Ietsugu continued, blind to the pained expression that flitted over his mother's face for a moment. His innocence was so cruel at times. Tsuna, tearing his attention away from the screen, decided to add in his own two cents into the ongoing conversation. "You told us that he would be coming, but I think that it's highly unlikely that he would make it back to Japan in time for Christmas. It's already past ten o'clock."

"So, if Tsuna's right, can we start eating the cake now?" Ietsugu interjected eagerly, licking his lips as he looked to the log cake displayed temptingly on the table top. It was a beautifully well-made cake, suited to the festive season currently infecting most of the world.A thick layer of chocolate buttercream encrusted the entire cake, thin lines dragged through the soft cream to create a more realistic looking log. Powdered sugar had been scattered over the icing to resemble snow, deep red berries strewn beside the cake along with fake tree branches.

"Of course! There's not much point waiting for your Otou-san anymore since it's so late already." Nana managed to maintain the farce of a smile, feeling more like she was baring her teeth than anything, "Maybe he forgot about the time difference or something and will come late." Anyone could have discerned that she didn't believe what she was saying though.

She had truly hoped that Iemitsu would come, or at the very least, call home. If not for her, than for his children. The last time he had came, one year ago, he had shown no inclinations that he wanted to divorce her nor that his interest in her had waned. He had been completely devoted to her just as he had been when they had agreed to get married.

Still..."I'm sorry, dear! But duty calls!" Would be all that Iemitsu would say and then he would just up and leave again abruptly, even after the huge fiasco that was her wedding.

Why? Why was his job as a lowly construction worker so important that he had to be called halfway around the world urgently? Why did he marry her and leave her for years on end with hardly a letter or a call?

Sometimes, she would stare at her wedding photo, reminiscing over the disaster and _regretting _her marriage. Then she would berate herself fiercely for her infidelity and end up wondering if he was the one cheating on her across the globe. At least something had come out of the quasi-marriage, she often told herself. Nana wouldn't trade her children for the world.

Tsuna looked up at her then, childish enthusiasm shining in his eyes as they began the countdown towards Christmas. The forced smile became something more genuine, and to her horror, tears started budding at the corners of her eyes. Ietsugu rushed at the presents as soon as the clock struck twelve, mouth stained with liberal amounts of cream, even his nose had been decorated with a dollop of the chocolate substance.

Yes, she wouldn't trade them for the world.

_If only Iemitsu had called. _

But perhaps she would trade them for him.

* * *

**Glossary:**

**Otou-san: Father**

**The necklace will have some significance later on. I don't have a beta, so please inform me if there are any mistakes in my grammar (my friend has repeatedly informed me of my terrible grasp of grammar... my mum too, come to think of it), and stuff like that. And don't flame please, it is rather hurtful. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all favoriters (this isn't even a word...but you get what I mean right?), followers and reviewers! I'm honestly surprised that you people liked the first chapter and all the statistics encouraged me to continue! Sorry about the late update though. I know I said one week, but I had some homework that I bothered doing and a rather major project so it's slightly late. **

**To sss: If you're reading this, thanks for notifying me about the error! I didn't really check out how the Japanese currency works. I just went to convert it :) **

**To Silenzioso: I hope I didn't spell your username wrongly... I'm sorry to disappoint but Iemitsu will not be an admired father by any stretch of the imagination. But he will not be useless, and will have some measure of love towards his children as any other father would. As for your question... I kinda added it on a whim at first, but later I decided it could fit into my plot. So I'll elaborate more on that fact about the necklace later in the story. Much much later. It's not important at the moment. **

* * *

**~Four Years Old~**

Four year olds, on the whole, are terribly hard to deal with.

They run around on their stubby legs at pitiable speeds, screaming as loud as the fire alarms, but still somehow managing to outrun all the teachers skilfully. They squabble over the most nugatory things, often resorting to bursting into tears in an appeal for attention from the authoritarian adults when unable to win using logic. They get jealous over trifling objects like a pen, demanding that they ought to have the same possessions only to discard them when said object was no longer hankered after by the rest of their peers.

Any effort put in to stop such antics were useless, since their stunted minds are still unable to comprehend reason.

_I really hate teaching… _

Ito-sensei, a teacher in Namimori pre-school, plastered a convincing smile onto her face to put up a front for the crowd of four year olds staring curiously at her. Clapping her hands with false cheer, Ito announced in a high-pitched voice that imitated her students, "Welcome to Namimori pre-school! I'll be your teacher for the next three years, so let's get to know each other better!"

The students, predictably, shrieked agreeably to her little speech, covertly whispering amongst themselves.

"Settle down…" Maintaining the smile on her face, Ito waited for the children to sit down clumsily on the bright blue and orange mat (a terrible color combination in her opinion), "Now, we'll go in a circle and introduce ourselves one by one, okay?"

"I'm Ito-sensei!" She said enthusiastically. Ito then gestured for the next girl to continue, smiling encouragingly in an effort to speed up this whole tedious process. But it was protocol, sadly.

"M-my name is Fujimoto Rei!" The poor girl stuttered nervously, wringing her hands in her lap and staring fixedly at the floor to avoid eye contact. _How meek, _she resisted the urge to sneer.

"I'm Sato J-jirou!" The next one was just as bad.

"Yamamoto Takeshi!" At least this one had to get some credit for being loud and cheerful.

"My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi." A melodious voice rang out in the classroom, and Ito's gaze immediately snapped towards a boy with caramel eyes. He stared her straight in the eyes, completely collected and speech patterns all _wrong_ for a four year old.

"I'm Sawada Ietsugu!" The boy sitting beside Tsunayoshi spoke up, a more open and unreserved expression on his face . "Ara, you two are twins?" She leaned forward eagerly as she studied their features that were clearly distinctive from each other. They had sat together, most likely sticking to the easy familiarity of each other's presences, something that class allocation at primary school would soon remedy by separating them into different classes. "Yes, we are." The first twin to be introduced answered, curtly polite but in a tone that left no doubt as to his interest-or lack thereof- in continuing the conversation.

"How interesting! I've never taught a pair of twins before! Can I call you by your given names to avoid confusion?" Ito asked, baffling most of the class with the 'bombastic' words. Tsunayoshi nodded in acquiesce, not even a scrap of incomprehension on his face. _Intelligent then… Damn, the intelligent ones are always the hardest to teach. _"Okay! Let's go on to the next person!"

"I'm Sasagawa Kyoko!"

* * *

"_But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a __mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face." -The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde_

"Please split into groups of three! We're going to start a fun group activity!"

The class automatically degenerated into a mess of children grabbing for their best friends, clinging and then drifting into separate groups like foam floating apart from each other atop sea water. Tsuna stood by himself, watching silently as the students milled around him in a tumult of needless noise. "Sawada-san!" A cutesy voice called out, causing Tsuna to look up. "Would you like to join our group?"

An petite orange-haired girl stood in front of him, tiny hand clasped about the wrist of another taller girl with thick dark hair. Sasagawa Kyoko and her best friend, Kurokawa Hana. Her adorable looks had already lent her the position of an idol within Namimori pre-school. And Kurokawa Hana, while merely sub par in terms of aesthetic appeal, more than made up for it with her cognitive abilities and her association with Kyoko, which lent her a incontrovertible amount of unhealthy influence over the rest of the cohort.

Tsuna eyed her impassively for a moment, mentally weighing the pros and cons of joining her group. The other boys in the classroom glared at him jealously, irked that Kyoko would ask the most cold-hearted boy in the whole class to join her.

Not that Tsuna cared. While Sasagawa was admittedly rather pretty, what with her guileless honey brown eyes and well-balanced features that made her look like the epitome of cuteness, he didn't feel an inkling of adulation towards the girl. She just wasn't enough to even stir his curiosity.

(Mentally, Tsuna had always compared her to a bowl of oats-sweet to taste at first, but after each bite, a bland and uninteresting flavour set into tastebuds. Most people were like that though, and at least her innocence was unpretentious.)

Anyway, the question now is: To join or not to join? Pros: He would be in a group, and one of the members seemed incapable of being judgemental. Cons: The spotlight would undoubtedly be focused on him, since Sasagawa was rather popular amongst her peers. Oh, and Ietsugu admired her to the point of obsession. Tsuna would have entertained the possibility of that admiration as a crush if not for the fact that Ietsugu had a paltry knowledge of romantic love, if at all.

Catching a glimpse of his brother's conspicuous dark blond hair in the midst of some boys, socializing with them without any sign of harassment on his person, Tsuna turned back to his waiting audience.

Shrugging nonchalantly, he voiced a dull, "Alright" before following them to one of the plastic tables littered about the bright blue mat of the classroom.

* * *

Kurokawa Hana eyed the boy seated in front of her warily. There was just something about the younger Sawada twin that made people want to hold him in awe, as an object that could only be gazed at, far beyond their reach. It could be the way he spoke, formal and graceful. It could be the way he moved, every gesture controlled and elegant. Even the way he _sat _seemed almost regal and unworldly.

It set him apart from the other rowdy, incomprehensibly annoying _children. _Hana resolutely ignored the fact that she was still considered a child.

But since the teacher had implied that this group activity was meant to help them build rapport with each other, they might as well introduce themselves all over again. "I'm Kurokawa Hana, and this is Sasagawa Kyoko."

Sawada arched a brow while he leant back slightly in his chair before saying in a measured tone, "Sawada Tsunayoshi, as you may have gathered from the previous class introduction at the start of the term unless you weren't paying attention. Or your memory is...selective." Hana couldn't help but bristle slightly at the mocking jab. Even as she opened her mouth to snap back an irritable retort, Ito-sensei interrupted with a sharp clap that resounded throughout the classroom.

"Now, we shall play an icebreaker game! It's called Two Truths and a Lie!" She explained the rules next. "All of you must write down two truths and one lie about yourselves. Then, share them with your group members, who will then try to guess which one of the three is a lie. Do all of you understand?" The class chorused an affirmation. "Great! Then you may start….now!"

Neatly penning down three sentences on a scrap of paper, Hana glanced about to see if anyone was done. Directly opposite her, Tsunayoshi was absently twirling a pen about his slender fingers, eyeing what he had undoubtedly written on his own paper. Kyoko had also finished, and eyed them expectantly. Almost in synchrony, Hana pushed her paper towards Tsunayoshi, who handed his to Kyoko, who likewise passed hers to Hana.

Scanning the relatively regular and tidy letters scrawled on the paper, Hana was almost tempted to snort when she saw the 'facts'.

_My onii-san is called Ryohei. _

_I like fighting. _

_I have friends. _

Honestly, the answer was almost blatantly obvious. Hana had known the Sasagawa family intimately since young, when they were still toddlers as they were neighbours. Kyoko definitely had a brother called Ryohei, a grey haired boy who was far too hyper for anyone's good. Everyone living in that street could hear his deafening shouts of "EXTREME!". Her overly kind-hearted nature had also granted an aversion towards any form of violence. As for not having friends… Hana couldn't imagine Kyoko not having friends. She was the most personable person around. It was a wonder that she even deigned to hang out with Hana.

"Are you done?" Hana looked up to see Tsunayoshi holding out a hand expectantly. They passed the papers in the same order, and Hana now held Tsunayoshi's. She couldn't help but note that his handwriting was rather well proportioned, crisp and overall giving a professional feel.

_I cannot ride a bicycle. _

_I despise milk._

_My greatest fear is bats. _

Hana paused, attempting to elucidate the matter. She didn't have nearly as much information on Tsunayoshi as she had of Kyoko, considering that the boy mostly kept to himself, treated with near reverence and bitter jealousy by the class for his intellect and composure. Based on what little knowledge she had garnered from observation, the first sentence seemed rather implausible, given the fact that he had excellent balance.

Then again, there had been a rumor of Sawada's father abandoning the family running rampant through the town at some point in time, so perhaps he never had the opportunity to learn.

Milk? It's not like she would have any idea about that. Break time hadn't even started.

Fears appeared as a concept very remote from her image of Sawada. He was stoic, and taciturn at best, barely speaking and on those occasions, only to satisfy the teacher by conforming to social norms such as making conversation or to indulge his brother's need to chatter constantly. There had been one time a spider was seen inching up the wall, eight spindly legs and fuzzy black body making it look grotesque and unsightly. Predictably, many children instantaneously broke out into sobs and wailed for their mothers or the teacher.

But within the chaos, at the very heart of the 'hurricane', Sawada had only lounged lazily in his chair, looking for all the world as though his ear drums weren't being damaged by the high decibel shrieking near his ears. But just because he hadn't been scared of that accursed arachnid didn't negate the chance that he was scared of bats.

What did she know about Sawada anyway? He was a mess of incongruencies, a contradiction in itself. He possessed a frighteningly scathing tongue, yet he regularly exercised his charm with discreetly honeyed flattery. He protected his brother with a single-minded intensity that warded off even the most notorious bullies in the upper years, yet rarely took the initiative to start a conversation with the frolicsome twin. He was indisputably the smartest in the entire class, or maybe even the entire school, yet he was unforthcoming in group discussions, never volunteering any suggestions. He was miserly with his money amongst his peers, yet Hana had once seen him offering a stray beggar an excessive amount of notes.

"Time's up!" The teacher's nasal voice broke the peaceful silence, and Hana could feel a headache developing. "Now, take back your own papers…" The gentle rustling sound of paper crinkling could be heard throughout the classroom. "And one by one-take turns please- ask the two other group members which sentence is a lie. Those who guess the lie correctly will get a candy at the end of the lesson."

_Bribery with sweets: The ultimate technique of pre-school teachers. _

"Who wants to start first?" Sawada prompted while tapping his fingers against the table leisurely.

"I'll start!" Kyoko jumped eagerly at the chance, a beatific smile on her face. "So," She held up her paper cheerfully, "Which one do you think is a lie?"

"The second one." Hana and Sawada stated flatly. "Sugoi! You two are really smart!" The puerile wonderment in her eyes would have been a mere fake on anyone else's face, but Kyoko's sentiments were genuine. While her manners were not as coarse as her brother's, both siblings had a strange sense of naivety about them that enabled them to be unpretentious in a way that many had already lost by this age. Sawada looked like he was resisting the urge to facepalm, and Hana had to suppress a snicker at how out of character he was behaving.

"How did you guess, Sawada-san? Hana and I have been friends since young so I expected her to get the answer but we haven't even met before pre-school!" Kyoko exclaimed, her eyes shining with inquisitive rapture as she gesticulated excitedly with her hands. "Process of elimination." Sawada said, subtly leaning away from the orange-haired girl.

Upon seeing her expectant look, he sighed compliantly and elaborated, "Firstly, I've seen your brother in the mornings. He runs past our house as part of his circuit around Namimori and I've talked to him a few times. He revealed his name and that of his family members to me during our first interaction. So that strikes out the first sentence. Secondly, it's obvious that you have friends judging from your relationship with Kurokawa, and that crosses out the last sentence leaving only the second: that you like fighting."

"You talked to onii-san?" A minute flinch wracked Sawada's hands, and they jerked up towards his ears in a seemingly involuntary movement. "Yes. He's very… exuberant." Well, Hana had to give the poor boy points for diplomacy, considering that he seemed rather traumatized by the meetings if his reactions were anything to go by.

Kyoko giggled in reply, the light, airy sound drawing the whole class' attention with its bell-like quality. "No need to lie, Sawada-san. I know a lot of people don't really like Onii-san." Despite her flippant words, her normal blithe smile had been pulled down at the edges by a barely perceptible amount, a sign which Hana identified from experience as Kyoko's unhappy mood.

There was an awkward pause before, "I don't dislike him, for all that he's overly loud, overly protective, and overly tactless." Hana leveled a scrutinizing glance at the boy sitting next to her-which he paid no heed to-, and reluctantly conceded that there wasn't anything in his mannerisms to suggest that he had lied in his candid impression of Ryohei.

Kyoko, with her natural discernment of people's moods, clearly realized the same. "Thank you. Is it your turn now, Tsunayoshi-san?" Sawada blinked, shifting the full weight of his shrewd observation onto Hana's sole friend, and only the pure intent contemplation of his gaze stopped Hana from defending Kyoko zealously. "It's okay for me to call you that, right? Since we're friends!"

Only the infinitesimal widening of sienna eyes revealed Sawada's surprise before even that minute reflexive twitch was stamped down. "If you wish, you may call me Tsuna." An almost shy smile curved his lips, and Hana wondered if he had realized that all the girls in the class had signed dreamily in tandem to the emergence of that hesitant smile. Maybe that's why he didn't show his facial expressions that much.

"Tsuna-san then!"

The smile died down as swiftly as it had come, much to the disappointment of the girls. He turned the paper so that it faced Hana and Kyoko, "Moving on, which one do you think is false?"

"The first one." Hana tried to siphon off any insecurities that she had of her answer.

"The second one?" Kyoko clearly had no such qualms.

"You're both wrong," Sawada, or rather Tsuna now, replied blandly. "The third one is the lie."

"You're not scared of bats?" Hana enquired.

A mystifyingly bitter look graced his face as he said, "Kurokawa-san, there are far more fitting things to fear other than bats."

* * *

A peal of silvery laughter, sweet and pleasing to the ear, was let free from Kyoko's mouth at the adjacent table. A dainty hand was lifted to cover the curvature of her mouth, and she spoke at a muted pitch to Tsuna, ignoring the stares coming from the rest of the class.

"Did Kyoko-chan just… laugh?" A boy next to him, Sato Jirou or something of the like, whispered doubtfully, a dubious look on his face. "Laugh with that unfriendly Sawada Tsunayoshi" was left unsaid.

Ietsugu didn't even condescend to grace that moronic question with an answer. He wasn't a child prodigy by any means-that was his brother-, but some of his brother's pride must have rubbed off him at some point in time. Seriously, talk about stating the obvious.

Tsuna answered quietly, deliberately toning down his voice so that the prying listeners couldn't surreptitiously eavesdrop. Ietsugu strained his ears, endeavouring to perceive the whispered words of his twin brother. A silence elapsed, interrupted moments later by Kyoko. He furtively shifted his seat to the side, diminishing the distance between him and Tsuna, the rounded legs of the chair sliding unhampered across the threadbare coarse cloth weaved into a carpet."-Since we're friends!" Kyoko was saying blithely.

Ietsugu froze. He was dumbfounded. A bolt of raw, stinging pain zipping through his nerves crudely notifies him of his fingernails digging into the soft, delicate flesh of his palm. Friends?

_You're sickening. _A splenic voice hissed in his head, charged entirely with uninhibited loathing and rage. _So sickening in your fixation on that stupid girl. I can't believe that I share my mind with such a worthless creature. _

Ietsugu glanced around almost wildly, trying to catch a glimpse of the anonymous speaker. Chatter is rife throughout the classroom, the momentary undivided attention bestowed onto Tsuna's table having subsided. But there is no sign at all of a person speaking exclusively to him. The others sharing the table with him are blathering amongst themselves, engrossed with their own conversation. No one showed any sign of hearing a stream of demeaning insults against their classmate.

'Am I going mad?'

_No. You're hearing voices in your head, voices that are currently belittling what little ego you still have, and that's not classified under mental problems because its perfectly standard for children your age to be hearing strange voices in their heads. _The same voice replied venomously, biting sarcasm coated over every word. Ietsugu couldn't help but note the similarities between this voice's tone and that of his twin's whenever Tsuna spoke of their father within the private haven of their rooms.

_And you're rather daft if you can't even put two and two together. I mentioned that I was sharing your mind didn't I? _It was strange, that the voice was reiterating the insult his brother had said on multiple occasions, but instead of the mildly exasperated yet childishly affectionate tone he was familiar with, every sentence that this voice was saying was spat out abrasively.

"Who are you?" Ietsugu nearly asked out loud before clamping his jaw shut. He had enough common sense to refrain from letting the others in class know about this voice. _Perhaps you aren't as dumb as I initially thought. You could say I'm your… other half. Your other personality. The one you buried with the worst memories of your life. _

'The worst memories of my life?' There was no answer. But he was aware that the chilling, hostile presence still dwelled in his mind, bound by a tenuous coalition. Tactful enough to avoid the sensitive topic, he tread carefully around the subject, switching rapidly. 'What's your name?'

_Names hold no significance to me. I am you. You are me. That's all you have to know. _The voice replied this time, and Ietsugu got the distinct impression of a skittish colt, wary and ready to bolt the moment it sensed a threat. 'But surely I have to differentiate between the two of us?' Before the voice could interrupt in a no doubt brusque and offensive way, Ietsugu pressed on, 'We are two separate personalities right? So aren't we different people?'

_We aren't so different, you and I. _The voice's biting edge had dulled, and it seemed softer than it had ever been previously. Taking it as a grudging permission, Ietsugu wracked his mind for a suitable name. 'Tsuna' Was the first name to pop into existence within his brain, 'How about Tsuna?' He proposed.

_No. _This time, the voice wasn't irked and caustic, but hard and bitter. It wasn't just angry. There was hurt interweaved in subtle undertones, pain from a betrayal that Ietsugu couldn't remember. _No. I am not the one who abandoned you and I will not take up the name of the one who did. _And for all its rigid words, Ietsugu thought the voice had taken on a frangible quality.

And though he tried to converse with it for the rest of the lesson, the voice remained tenaciously silent.

Ietsugu wondered if a secret that was the root of so much anguish was even worth knowing.

* * *

"When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them." -_Horseradish, _Lemony Snicket

Silver moonlight edged its way through the slits in the silken curtains, peering at the plain ceiling and dappling it with an aesthetic pattern of consistently moving light. Tsuna curled up on his bed, back propped by a soft pillow and a book laid out across his lap. There was an abrupt stuttering snore from the adjacent room before lapsing, the harsh sound hardly deadened by the thin walls between each room. Already used to his twin's disruptive sleeping habits, Tsuna merely ignored the interruption, slipping a finger between the minute gap of the two pages to flip it over.

_Psyche went on, walking slowly and gravely, like a child going to say a lesson, right in among all the foulness. She touched and she touched. They fell at her feet and kissed her feet and the edge of her robe and her shadow and the ground where she had trodden. And still she touched and touched. There seemed to be no end of it; the crowd increased instead of diminishing. For hours she touched. The air was stifling even for us who stood in the shadow of the porch. The whole earth and air ached for the thunderstorm which (we knew now) would not come. I saw her growing paler and paler. Her walk had become a stagger._

_"King," said I, "it will kill her."_

_"Then more's the pity," said the King. "They'll kill us all if she stops."_

Then, a soft, shuddering sob breached the soothing silence relegated to the night. For a brief moment, Tsuna contemplated the possibility of it coming from him-_When had he become so emotional as to cry over a book?_-before realizing that it came from the room across the hallway. It was almost inaudible, just a slight sound tickling his ears even in the near dead quietude of the night. Muffled too, as though deliberately stifled by a pillow.

Tsuna's fingers clenched momentarily around the thin sheet of paper in his hand, the page yielding all too easily to the sudden violence and crinkling beyond repair, a map of creases over the formerly smooth surface. Before he was even aware of his movements, he had already vaulted out of the downy warmth of his bed, bare feet meeting the chill of the smooth wood flooring with a hiss escaping his mouth.

Just as he was reaching for the door knob, his hand faltered as though all strength had been sapped from it. Dropping the foolishly outstretched limb, he headed back to his bed, switching off the bedside lamp and curling up into a small ball, endeavouring to draw his knees as close as possible to his chest. He reached blindly for the book, brushing his small palm clumsily along the edges, shutting his eyes in a futile attempt to submerge himself in the oblivion of sleep.

There was another watery cry. And another. And another. It was a purgatory repetition of redundant tears, a broken recorder of dead happiness.

But it was Nana's way of coping. This was how she endured the snide taunts coming from meddlesome neighbours for having a husband that was never here, how she withstood having to raise two children all by herself, how she weathered the disapproval of her own parents over a marriage that was never really a union. All with a smile.

During the day, she smiled as brightly as the noon sun, cheerful and optimistic. Under the cover of darkness, she cried to get all the pain and sorrow and fear and _heartache _off her chest so they wouldn't crush her fragile body under the sheer pressure exerted. Seeking not to scare them-_because what child wouldn't be frightened to know that their infallible mother cried herself to sleep at night_-, it was only in the earliest hours of the morning when everyone in town had submitted to the lure of peaceful sleep that she submitted instead to her own torment.

But it was her way of sustaining the carefree, happy-go-lucky mother that Tsuna knew best, and no matter how selfish, he didn't want his mother to change.

So, just like every other time this had happened, whenever Nana was unaware that her youngest son was still wide awake, he buried himself under the thick, suffocating duvets, trying to mute the sounds of his mother's sobs.

And for some strange, unfathomable reason, even under the layers of fleecy fabric, he felt so very cold.

* * *

**Glossary: **

**Sensei - Teacher**

**I think my writing worsened in this chapter... unfortunately. Thanks for telling me my grammar doesn't suck quite as badly as I was led to believe, but again, please notify me for any errors! And Ietsugu is developing DID (dissociative identity disorder), but I'm not too sure of the particulars of the disorder but according to wikipedia, hearing voices is a symptom. And they all speak like adults... I'm sorry! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry! I know I updated really late but I had a project and all sorts of school work to worry about. **

**So, anyways, this is the third chapter! My friend helped me to beta this chapter! She's a grammar nazi so there shouldn't be too many errors :)**

**To 27: I apologize, but I'm against incest so there will be no pairing between Ietsugu and Tsuna. **

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn does not belong to me **

* * *

**~Six Years Old~ **

_Two sets of footsteps resound through an endless corridor._

_The first is panicked, an irregular staccato beat of bare flesh slapping against the dirt-encrusted cement floor, echoing its owner's fear as he fled. Each step sends a stinging pain jolting up nerve fibres, a trail of red prints left neatly in his wake. Labored breaths escape in a desperate attempt to swallow more air, to fuel already enervated muscles. _

_The other is unhurried and deliberate, almost ridiculing the young boy's-no, hardly a boy, more of a toddler-futile bid for freedom. Each long stride is smooth and predatory, eating up the distance between man and child effortlessly; each footfall the distant toll of a church bell, even and uncaring. There is no urgency in the pace, merely an insouciant leisure. _

_Desperately, the boy continues to run, uncoordinated clumsiness apparent in the ungainly strides as the stubby legs of a three year old struggle to increase his speed. He stumbles. He falls and hits the unvarnished, grungy ground with an unpleasant thud, a mess of jumbled limbs. _

_Tears prick hazel eyes as fragments of a shattered glass bottle perforates the tender skin of his arm. Too slow. Much too slow. He scrambles back up, unheeding of the viscous crimson liquid that trickles out of each wound, partially barricaded by shards of glass. His fear overpowers his pain. _

_The chase resumes, the predator and the prey. The panicked and the unhurried. The prisoner and the jailer. _

_And the corridor is endless._

Hazel eyes open, neither bleary nor unfocused as most are wont to do upon waking up. His were wild, the pupils dilated with residual fear and panic translated from a nightmare.

_Not a nightmare._ The voice, or rather 'Alter' as he had dubbed it, whispered passively. _A memory. My memory_. His tone was far from motherly, but soothing in its familiarity, assuaging the rising panic within Ietsugu.

Ietsugu sat up, running a hand through his hair wearily and kicking off the blankets that had tangled with his legs. His tan skin was cold and clammy, beads of sweat causing his clothes to cling obstinately to his figure.

'You still won't tell me what happened, I guess?' He sighed, having gotten more comfortable with Alter's formerly intrusive existence after numerous conversations. The lack of sleep from the nightmares, however, was starting to take its toll on him. He was drained of energy during the day, throbbing headaches making their appearances more and more often. He knew that Tsuna, always perceptive of his health, was growing increasingly suspicious.

_The very reason I was created was to keep these memories away from you. We are separate entities because we have different memories. _Alter snapped in a peeved manner, before lowering his voice once more in a rare show of consideration of the pounding behind Ietsugu's temples._ It's unfortunate that I cannot control the memories when asleep._

'You can't?' Ietsugu felt strangely incredulous. Alter had always seemed so much like… Tsuna. Like he could accomplish anything at a snap of his fingers.

_Are you an idiot or what?_ Alter asked, scorn saturating each word. _When I sleep, I dream, just like you. The memories just pop out randomly like how your dreams do. I have no control over when it appears or whether it appears to you._

'Why won't you just let me see?' Ietsugu ignored the mocking question concerning his intelligence, 'I mean, won't it just be better if we're one person instead of two people living in one body? Surely your memories can't be that bad.' He asked, making no attempt at subtlety. The originally tranquil atmosphere evaporated into one fraught with tension.

_Not that bad?_ There was a bitter, derisive laugh, and when Alter continued, he had reverted to the same rancorous personality he had held at the start of their acquaintance. _You really are an idiot, aren't you?_ This time, the words weren't merely to ridicule, there was genuine confusion and disbelief merged within.

_I am what keeps you sane. Perhaps you have forgotten the fact that I was created because you couldn't cope with the trauma of the memories that are now mine. You have no recollection of what happened in **my** life solely due to the fact that you were too weak. Too weak to withstand all the things that happened to **me**. Not you. If you couldn't bear my memories in the past, what makes you think that you can do it now? _Alter snapped harshly, not even bothering to censor his words to take off its cruel, blunt edge.

'I changed over the years too!' Ietsugu exclaimed heatedly, trying not to lose ground in this argument. 'You can't just ignore the fact that maybe now I can handle it!'

_Why do you even want the memories for anyway? They'll only embitter you._

'Like they have done to you?' Ietsugu blurted out inadvertently, regretting it instantly when Alter fell silent, as was his custom whenever he felt edgy about the choice of topic. 'I-I'm sorry. I don't k-know what came over me. I didn't really mean i-it.'

_There is no need to apologize._ Alter finally voiced, resigned concurrence evident in his tone. _Lying is my job, not yours._

* * *

Hikaru Tamiko pondered over a peculiar child as she walked about the library unobtrusively, slipping the dog-eared books back into their rightful places on the shelves. The first time he had come here, she had thought he was just an ordinary boy from the daycare centre just around the corner.

Nothing special. Nothing outstanding. Just a mundane little boy with too big eyes who wanted to read more about the fascinating adventures painted on the glossy pages within the covers of thin books in the children's section.

But now that Tamiko looked more closely at him, he was different. He sat, back ramrod straight, posture perfect. The book laid out in front of him was thick, a huge tome that was quite obviously not suited for children his age. And ever since she had started to observe him surreptitiously, she noticed that not once was he accompanied by an adult whenever he visited the library.

He propped the book up on the table, tiny hands grasping at the hard backing to ensure that the book wouldn't tilt. Tamiko caught sight of the cover, doing a double take and nearly causing the book in her hand to take a nosedive to her feet. **Cognitive Neuroscience: The Biology of the Mind**, was printed neatly in bolded script on the cover of the book. Neuroscience?! Judging by his rather insubstantial height, the boy couldn't be older than six years old at the very most. Absently slotting another book back to its home on the shelves, she glanced at the boy curiously from under her long bangs.

He flipped the page over again, amber eyes latching onto the contents only briefly before flickering away to the next page. So briefly that Tamiko instantly scoffed at her inane assumption that he was actually reading. It was ludicrous for a six year old boy to be able to comprehend the complex medical jargon written about neuroscience.

But over the course of the next few weeks, she watched discreetly as the boy borrowed book after book, tucking them snugly into his already leaden bag. And she truly began wondering whether that boy was a child prodigy. A genius.

Then one day he returns, offering a wad of money and a curt apology for the torn book that he holds gingerly in his hands. The book is a total mess, the thin sheets of paper looking as though they had been brutally ripped from the spine, leaving a jagged line of blank white. Throughout their brief interaction, his steady gaze never even left the abused book to meet hers, and that's when she had an inkling of just how much the book must have meant to him.

As he walked away, Tamiko couldn't help but notice the slight limp to his normally graceful gait, and the dark bruises decorating the pale column of his neck that peeked out of the unusually high collar on the jacket he had chosen to wear that day. She couldn't quite convince herself that he had gotten them by accident.

And that little boy, so bright and so brilliant, so full of untapped potential, never returned to the library again.

* * *

Alter detested, no, _hated_ his younger brother.

He couldn't just resign himself to the fact that he would never quite be the younger boy's equal. Even when they were much younger, women would coo over Tsuna's expressionless yet cherubic face, and all it took for them to bow to his will was just a twitch of small pouty lips.

"Such a sweet child!"

"HOW ADORABLE!"

"Cute..."

Then, as if the stinging favoritism of Tsuna because of his looks wasn't enough, as if it wasn't just so much _harder _for him to gain _any_ attention, Tsuna was just so smart. No matter how much Alter wanted to deny it, Tsuna was a prodigy, his mind instantly absorbing and understanding everything. His younger twin read complex books on science and math even at the tender age of four. He was a level above, superior in every sense. Next to him, Alter appeared lacklustre and completely unremarkable. Substandard, at the very best.

Perhaps, given time, the deep rooted resentment would have coalesced into a mixture of pride, admiration and protectiveness-the feelings of a generous-hearted older brother toward a particularly brilliant sibling. Perhaps it would have.

But then it happened. Split between the two personas, Ietsugu's memories consisted of the brightest ones, the ones forged by a tender sense of belonging and contented warmth. Alter's were the opposite.

If Ietsugu had been allotted the 'nice' memories by some generous twist of fate, then Alter had gotten the flip side, the ones fabricated by undiluted terror and pain and loneliness, unaccompanied by any positive emotions.

_*"The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared."_

_Bullshit._ Sharing his memories would be sharing pain. And for all that he used scathing barbs to abuse the deplorably fragile self-worth of Ietsugu, even he wasn't cruel enough to inflict such damage onto another being (excluding Tsuna, of course).

Ietsugu regarded Tsuna as a goal, someone to be surpassed. It was understandable, since Tsuna breezed past him effortlessly in almost every area despite investing little time and energy to attain such a high level of performance. Alter knew that there were niggling fragments of jealousy, but not nearly enough to drive Ietsugu to raise his fist against his brother.

Alter was a different matter altogether. The memories he possessed had 'embittered' him, as Ietsugu had so aptly put it. All the terror and trauma only gave root to a deep rooted resentment of his twin brother. Of Tsuna's abandonment. And over time, the deep rooted resentment only escalated rapidly into the first seeds of hatred, which flourished and consumed his entire personality.

Tsuna should count himself fortunate that Ietsugu was the predominant personality.

_Brown eyes blinked into awareness, disoriented and muddled._

_Ietsugu moved his limbs cautiously, as though they were puppets and he, the puppeteer; as though they were detached from his body._

_A slow, malign smile spread over his lips._

Of course, who ever said he couldn't take back control of his body?

* * *

Small hands grip the rim of the marble basin so hard that his knuckles are bleached white. His reflection stares at him blankly, large purple discolourations blossoming along the whole length of his body. He gingerly pokes one of the huge bruises that blemished the soft skin of his stomach, hissing lightly when it throbs unpleasantly. A stark contusion on the slender column of his neck that fit Ietsugu's fingers perfectly was proof of just how far his twin had gone.

_What happened?_

The dam that he had unconsciously constructed to hold back his feelings crumbled, floodwaters of pain, hurt, anger, and even anguish coursed through him forcefully, a self-destructive reflex.

What happened to him?

A tear slowly traces its way down a smooth cheek, leaving behind a cold, silvery trail. After mapping its way across the soft contours of his face, the droplet splatters onto the sink, flowing down silently. Many more follow.

_What happened to us?_

He wished that he didn't know the answer.

But his eidetic memory disallowed any details of that night three years ago to slip his mind.

And the tears just keep flowing.

* * *

_"Tsuna, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"_

_Tsuna glances at his brother from underneath his long lashes, an inexplicable feeling of foreboding causing his heart to pound faster. That greeting is peculiar and completely atypical of Ietsugu's jaunty (and occasionally bratty) behavior, as was the potent… hatred that swirls in his twin's eyes. But he keeps his face unperturbed, displaying none of the unease that churns within him._

_"Stop ignoring me." An undercurrent of anger runs in that familiar yet unfamiliar voice._

_Tsuna flits his gaze towards the door briefly before returning his attention to his seething twin. He remains silent, trusting his gut feeling that Ietsugu will only become more enraged if he spoke. But as it turned out, it didn't matter whether he spoke or not._

_Suddenly, a sharp pain erupts from his abdomen, shocking him out of his reverie. Another kick connects with his arm and he falls to the floor clumsily, the unanticipated assault leaving him no time to react. Another kick, this time aimed at his left leg. "I hate you!" Fury causes helpless tears to well out of Ietsugu's darker eyes. He says no more, a silent, vengeful sceptre, for what else is there to say?_

_Hate is a strong word, but not when you truly meant it._

_Tsuna doesn't fight back (not when he knows he deserves this), and it soon becomes monotonous. In a warped way, the kicks and punches that are rained onto him have become an unfluctuating tongue of flames licking at his body, no longer flaring wildly like they had been at the start. A steady beat of pain, climbing stubbornly towards the climax._

_Curling into a small ball, Tsuna bites his bottom lip hard to prevent any cries of pain from escaping. The coppery feel of blood slicks his lips like the lip gloss that females seem to be so fond of applying._

_He doesn't notice any movement, but suddenly he is choking, suffocating._

_He tries to draw breath but he finds that he can't. A child's hands are wrapped firmly around his neck, obstructing the flow of air towards his lungs. There is an odd, achy feeling in his lungs, and it is slowly spreading to the extremities of his body - a clear warning of the danger that he's facing. He frantically scrapes at the clenching hands, blunt nails raking long carmine grooves in the soft skin in his desperation._

_Ietsugu looms over him, eyes blazing with a shine of madness, the blooming seeds of hatred, a steady flame of anger, and worst of all, a sense of vindictive satisfaction at watching his own brother asphyxiate._

_Tsuna can feel his limbs gradually weakening, his futile struggles reduced to a sluggish fight to stay conscious as black creeps into the edges of his vision. He is perilously close to death. All the while, a pair of honey gold eyes stare straight into the darker earthy brown of his brother's._

_Just before everything spirals into comfortable darkness, Tsuna hears a horrified scream as though from far, far away, that sounds suspiciously like his brother's. The persecuting hands are yanked away, as quickly as if his skin had burnt them, but by then Tsuna has already faded into blissful unconsciousness._

* * *

**~Seven Years Old~**

It was raining.

Clear, crystalline droplets plummeted from the sky, streaking through the air as slivers of grey. Children were ushered out of the cold, encompassing dome of the sky, shepherded into their own homes. Only one child remained outside, an orange umbrella held sturdily above him despite being a victim of the forceful wind.

Tsuna clamped his jaw shut in a vain effort to suppress the shivers that racked his slender frame. Rain pattered ruthlessly about him, numb yet stinging as they landed on the bare skin of his shins. He moved as fast as possible, his sandals already slick with icy water. Hanging from his grasp was a plastic bag full of assorted candies and chocolates-a peace offering.

Lately, Ietsugu had become more moody, more prone to violence, more isolated from everyone. When one of his flippantly crass comments to Nana had gone just a bit too far, Tsuna had snapped back some equally insensitive and unnecessarily harsh remark about him.

Which had led to him sneaking out of the house just to get a bag of sweets. Sweets that would no doubt cause all of Ietsugu's teeth to rot away by the time he's forty. Tsuna was kind of hoping they would now since that stupid twin of his was the reason why he was out freezing in the rain while Ietsugu was already tucked away in his comforter.

"Shit." An almost sibilant hiss escaped his lips as one sandal slid into a puddle, the remarkably unclouded water closing over his foot. Struggling to regain his balance, he gingerly lifted up the foot, sediments of accumulated dirt stuck under his foot. "How annoying…" Tsuna mumbled irritably as he walked on, deciding to take a shortcut and entering an alleyway.

"Why won't it just stop raining?" Tsuna continued grumbling as he carefully picked his way around the liberally strewn garbage. The rain pelted incessantly onto the ground, striking at metal surfaces such as dustbins to create a hollow, echoing effect. It almost, almost drowned out the brutal strikes of flesh against flesh.

Tsuna glanced up, perplexed but not quite troubled. Squinting through the obstructing curtain of rain, he made out the indistinct silhouettes of multiple men surrounding something on the ground. No, not something. Someone.

A boy, to be specific. Jet black hair, the norm in Japanese society, was plastered messily over a pale forehead, a long, savage gash delineated in bold red partly hidden behind the strands of soaked hair. The fact that the blood could look so concentrated and undiluted even when merged with rain spoke volumes of the extent of damage dealt.

His identity was easily exposed by the pair of tonfas lying innocuously on the wet ground, dents marring the sleek beauty of the weapons. They looked utterly harmless out of their master's hands, not at all lethal like Namimori had been led to believe after discovering his first exploits.

Hibari Kyoya, his mind supplied helpfully.

The nine year old boy who had rose to notoriety two years ago by unsparingly and ruthlessly striking down any rule-breakers and even Yakuza in Namimori. His name had gained such infamy that the very mention of him could instill fear and foreboding amongst Namimori citizens. His prodigious skill in wielding his weapons and sheer brute force afforded him the luxury of relative safety, which he had extended and dedicated to Namimori.

Crouching partway behind a grimy crate, Tsuna winced as a particularly rough kick caused Hibari to gag, threads of crimson intertwined with clear saliva spurting out of his mouth. The older boy made to stand up even in his grievous physical state, but one of the men kicked him mercilessly in the stomach the instant he managed to clamber to his knees.

Before Tsuna's astounded eyes, Hibari succeeded in keeping his balance, bracing his hands and knees against the unpliable ground. Idiot! Tsuna wanted to scream as he mutely watched blood trickle out in unfaltering rivulets from the numerous lacerations decorating Hibari's clammy skin in grisly patterns.

Logically, the wisest option at this point was to drop to the floor and weather the harsh blows until his assaulters lost interest or someone rescued him, and kneeling would only leave him open to more attacks against his vulnerable stomach.

But in those grey eyes, smothered beneath the enveloping layers of pain, burned a spark of pride. Pride that would not allow Hibari to fall to the ground in such a humiliating show of weakness before the people that had managed to defeat him. Even battered and more demeaned than he had ever been in his life, Hibari refused to be subdued.

And that, more than anything else, even his obscene strength, was admirable.

Ditching his conspicuous bright orange umbrella to the side, Tsuna grimaced when the sky eagerly bombarded his face with fat droplets of rain, his clothes pasting doggedly to his even damper skin. Skirting around the edges of the dilapidated buildings, Tsuna discreetly picked up Hibari's neglected tonfas and edged closer to the group warily.

Water lubricated his palms as Tsuna approached, the pouring rain covering up any footfalls and sounds that he made. He was trembling.

_Serpentine silver chains clinking with a macabre cheeriness around thin ankles. Frantic footfalls accompanied by that morbid tinkling pattering inconsistently behind him. The harsh and strained breathing of someone following close behind mingled with those sounds._

_A scream._

_Then there was only one, and he had never felt more alone before._

He tightened his grip on the tonfas, trying to still the tremors that ran through his hands. They weren't caused by the cold. _What am I doing? Trying to save a boy I don't even know?_

It wasn't so much a matter of his willingness to help Hibari, but more of his reluctance to leave Hibari-_or anyone_-behind.

He couldn't abandon someone else. Not again.

Not even Hibari Kyoya, the demon of Namimori.

* * *

**Again, sorry for updating so late! And I know I wasn't very creative in my naming of Ietsugu's alternate personality but I was never that good at naming stuff anyways **

*** - This is a quote from the Giver by Lois Lowry. **

**I hope you liked this chapter :) **


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